Between Love and Hate
by LordSaucy
Summary: He walked closer to me, heading toward the bulletin board at which I was stationed. His unbuttoned mustard cardigan blew in the breeze, holding onto a few of the curled orange leaves that blew in the crisp wind. His gait seemed easy and light but his face betrayed his true intentions. ((Rated M for serious SMUT))
1. Chapter 1

So this fic is basically an excuse for smut. Haven't written smut in a while, so this was an interesting experience, but I'm pleased with how it turned out.

Funny thing is, I thought of this as a one shot, but I actually thought of a story that could go with it, so for now it is a one-shot, but if you would like more to this story, just let me know and I'll try to work it into my writing schedule!

Enjoy

* * *

 **Between Love and Hate**

The Summer air in Pelican Town was thick with pollen and indiscretions. The sleepy little village in the heart of Stardew Valley wasn't as sweet and innocent as the residents would like people to think.

It was known that the Mayor, Lewis and Marnie the rancher met together for trysts in the middle of the night when the Mayor said he was out collecting produce and goods from my farm.

Kent and Jodi were known along Willow Lane for having rough sex whenever he was home, according to Haley, Kent's side piece they were trying for a daughter to offset the testosterone in the house. The only one who doesn't know about Haley, is Jodi. No one has the heart to tell her.

Speaking of Haley, no one was quite sure how she and Emily were able to afford their house on just Emily's salary. There were whispers that she sometimes accepted money for sexual favors, but no one had any solid proof.

Everyone who had seen M. Rasmodius the Wizard at town events knew that the only way Abigail could have gotten her purple hair was if Caroline had made a stop at the tower on her walks through Cinder Sap forest that suspiciously stopped as soon as she married Pierre.

The entire town was convinced that Evelyn abused George due to the constant bumps and bruises he had on his body, but no one dared bring it up.

Linus the sweet old man that lived in the woods wasn't so sweet. Both Haley and Abigail swear up and down they saw him peeping in their windows late at night.

Still, no one talks about any of it. They talk about anything but. The din in the Stardrop Saloon is at its peak tonight and everyone save for Evelyn, George and Jodi who was watching Jas and Vincent is in attendance.

The older kids who were just out of or finishing high school are all playing pool and gossiping about the adults who sat only a few feet away. The old felt of the pool table makes their shots jump and skip but they don't care. They're full of soda, sugar, and sharing secrets.

The closest adults to them, Robin and Demetrius are slow dancing to an up-tempo song, standing as close to one another as they can get almost like if they were any further apart their partner would fly away. Robin has her eye on the kids, and Demetrius has his eye on Haley who winks at her other sugar daddy.

At the next table sit Willy and Mayor Lewis who is trying desperately not to look over his shoulder at lonely Marnie. When their rendezvous were discovered he had called it off saying that it wasn't 'Mayor like' to sleep with someone he collected taxes from. Willy, who spends most of his time out at sea lets the Mayor ramble about his troubles in love, and returns the favor with a few stories of his own.

Gus and Emily are dealing with Pam who's had one too many drinks...again. She hasn't been the same since the bus broke down and she lost her job. Pam has been trying to find solace in the bottom of a glass ever since. She's not a nice drunk either, she's loud, belligerent, and takes it out on her meek daughter Penny who is currently trying to help Gus get his problem customer away from the bar.

Then there's Shane, leaning against the wall next to the Saloon's over sized fireplace. His head is down, avoiding eye contact with anyone he hasn't told to _'fuck off'_ in the past twenty-four hours. He has permanent five o'clock shadow, and his deep violet hair is peppered with dandruff from lack of showering. His budding beer belly pushes gently against his green and blue polo shirt, and his tan cargo pants have old beer and ketchup stains.

He was salty as fuck all of the time, and didn't care about the polite pretenses everyone in the town used as a front. His greeting and his goodbye were both "fuck off". He was crass, he was dirty, and he was sad.

 _Just my type._

I sat in the midst of all of this quietly, my calloused hands wrapped around a whiskey glass listening to the rumors and chaos fly around me. No one bothered to talk to me on nights like this, nights when I came in without trying to clean myself up first. That meant it was a bad day. That meant that something had broken, or crops had to be planted late into the evening and I had no time to shower.

I lit a cigarette and out of habit immediately ashed it in the tray provided by Gus who had wordlessly slid the plastic bowl at me as soon as I sat. Gus was a saint. He was the only one in town no one had any dirt on. Gus' job? Secret keeper.

There was many a day in the beginning when I walked in here mid-day and cried onto the bar top while I had an existential crisis about what I had done. Why had I moved from Zuzu City in the first place-sure I was unhappy but I was secure financially. I knew farming was going to be hard, and it probably was going to be a failing venture...but the longer I stayed here the more I wanted it to work.

I spilled all my insecurities to Gus who gave nothing more back than an ' _mhmmm_ ' and a drink. Gus' cure all for a bad day was a shot of whiskey and a cowboy killer. Over the months, that became my regular order.

Things never got easier-I was still working to try and live comfortably, but I was pulling a tiny profit. I made most of my money selling gems and ores I found in the mines, or fish to Willy if it was a rainy day. It wasn't profitable...yet...but it was honest.

That's more than I could say for most people in here.

The old polished driftwood bar top creaked as I readjusted my seating position. The worn stool I sat on swiveled with the movement and I almost lost my balance and tipped into the small army of shot glasses to my left. All mine. All empty.

I took another needy drag from my cigarette and exhaled through my nostrils, something I had forced myself to learn one lonely day in the Saloon last winter. I had gone through nearly a pack before I got the hang of it-but now it was one of my favorite tricks. One of Pam's too, apparently as he cackled on about how I looked like a dragon as her red faced daughter lead her out of the Saloon back to their shit hole trailer.

My hazel eyes rolled off to the side at Pam's drunken statement and met up with Shane's sky blue ones. His brows pinched in the center as he realized he had made some sort of contact with a human being and hadn't been rude yet. Before he could part his crusty lips and utter a word, I simply mouthed:

"Fuck you, asshole."

I watched as his eyes widened. Shane was used to giving shit, but not taking it. No one in this town, even at their worst said more than 'fiddlesticks' when they got angry. He straightened himself, jaw set and downed the last half pint he had. I smirked and slid my eyes back to the front and began counting the bottles on the back of the bar as I had become used to doing when there wasn't anyone interesting to talk to.

I had gotten halfway through the second row when I felt a chapped lips and stubble at my ear:

"Community Center, fifteen minutes." The voice was raw from booze and lack of use. It grated along my eardrum and gave rise to goosebumps on my neck, I shuddered as I heard his heavy footsteps recede and the loud groan of the front door of the saloon.

Wow. Something coming out of Shane's mouth that was more than his usual favorite phrase. I must have really pissed him off...or surprised him, wasn't sure which at that point and to be perfectly honest, I didn't care. The only thing I couldn't figure out was what was with the cryptic _'fifteen minutes'_ bullshit? I felt like I was back in Elementary school and someone was asking me to fight on the basketball court after school. It was a definite possibility that that drunk fuck would try to fight me, but I seriously doubted it. He was soft, and though he had some bulk on me, months of working solo on my farm had done wonders for my physique.

I wasn't too much unlike Shane when I arrived here. Soft, out of shape and with a horrible attitude. All of those things had improved since I had been here, some more than others, to be fair. I was now toned and tan, my stomach was flat and my legs didn't jiggle so much when I walked. I could go for a whole day of back breaking work with minimal breaks and be physically fine at the end of the night.

My mood, while less surly and cunty than when I arrived was the only thing that was somewhat intact. The only difference being that I kept my sarcasm and wit to myself mostly instead of inflicting it upon the poor villagers of Pelican Town. They didn't understand city humor.

"What was that about," I blinked a few times trying to focus my hazy vision on the barback with the blue pixie cut. Emily's smiling face was still a bit fuzzy, but I could see more detail now. Her eyes were ablaze with curiosity-and even in my inebriated state I didn't need to ask why. Shane never talked to anybody, let alone get close enough to whisper in their ear. Of course someone was going to ask, it was only a matter of time.

I closed my lips around the filter of my cowboy killer and inhaled deeply. _Where do I go with this? The truth? An outrageous lie?_ Emily blinked at me slowly waiting for my response. I turned my head slightly and exhaled, not wanting to be so rude as to blow smoke in her face and gave her a sly smile.

"He wants to talk," the barback's hands gripped the uneven edge of the glossy wood at my words. That would be just enough to keep the bar busy enough pondering what the conversation was about to give me time to escape.

The final sizzle of my cigarette as I ashed it also ended the conversation. Emily had a thousand questions burning in her eyes, but the only thing I gave her was my total, and a generous tip. I swiveled my stool off to the side and stood, bracing myself on the bar top. I was pretty tipsy, but I could easily make it to the community center in the allotted time I had left.

My left foot dragged on the floorboards as I made my exit. From my peripheral vision I could see the other patrons looking at me with the same curiosity as Emily had but none of them dared to stop and ask me like she did. That's why I liked Emily—nearly zero filter or regard for social niceties.

The saloon door creaked loudly as I opened it and stumbled down the three tiny wooden steps that bridged the gap between the cobblestone path and the floor level of the bar. "Christ," I muttered and slung two fingers into my belt loops to pull up my mud encrusted pants. No point in giving the nearly pitch dark mountain path any more help.

I headed around the side of the saloon for the straightest route to the Community Center as possible. If I just continued north past the saloon and Pierre's the cobblestone path would empty me out onto an incline that would take me right to the Center's door. _Easy peasy._

Foot still dragging and catching on the cobble pavers, I made my way as quickly as the whiskey would allow to the Community Center. It was still decently early in the evening so I was pretty confident that no one would be leaving the Saloon any time soon and catch where I was off to. Knowing I was meeting Shane somewhere would be enough to keep them talking for a while, but they didn't need to know where.

I was glad now that I had lied to Lewis about helping with the rat problem in the Center. Ever since he had kept the building unlocked for me so I could come and go as I pleased. It was a good little space, and I often wondered what it would take to fix the place up for the old guy. If I had less work than usual on the farm I would go up there with a little notebook and write down approximations of what I thought fixing it would take. I kept forgetting to bring it to Robin, though, and the farm had been more demanding as of late.

The hard part of my trek was in full swing at this point, and any light afforded to me by the sparse street lamps in the town center was gone. It was just me, and loose rocks on a hard dirt path for the next ten feet. The incline wasn't too bad, no more than a twenty degree angle, but anything you do is ten times harder when you've had the amount of booze that I'd ingested. My feet continuously slipped on the loose stones and dug into the hard dirt. I even lost my footing enough that I had to brace myself on one hand to get back to standing.

 _Whatever this is better be good,_ I groused as I stepped onto flat land once more while I was wiping my dust covered hand onto my jeans. Before me about thirty feet away stood the darkened, dilapidated Community Center. It nearly looked ominous under the light of the half moon. Its dark green peeling paint looked almost black, and the tiles on the roof were half gone from their perch and were littering the perimeter of the building hidden in the overgrown grass.

I trudged forward, knees screaming due to a mixture of a long day and the incline, and the pain in my hand from when I nearly fell was getting worse. I paused a moment and looked down at my palm. Blood, thick and syrupy was seeping from a rock-made gouge in the center of my hand.

 _Fucking great_. I looked down at what I was wearing and realized I had nothing clean to wipe my hand off on. My eyes moved back to the Center as I debated turning around and going home. Why did I make the journey up here just at his request in the first place? Just because his chapped lips had brushed my earlobe and gave me goosebumps? Because against all odds I found that surly sack of shit attractive? _Fuck me I need to get laid._

I hitched up my pants one more time and continued the last few feet to the door. When I got there I realized that the door was already open, and had just been pushed to near closing. Reaching out with my uninjured hand I pushed the door open, eliciting a loud groan from the building and stepped up the last stone stair so I was squarely in the doorway.

"Shane?" I called out waiting for my eyes to adjust to the blackness. "The fuck do you want?" I was about to take a step in when a dark shadow moved from behind the door and grabbed me, swiftly pulling me inside and off my feet.

I nearly screamed at the sudden motion in the darkness, but I lost my breath as I was quickly pressed up against the wood slat wall next to the door. There was a body in front of me, soft yet solid and reeking of hops. As irritated a I was I couldn't ignore the little flip my stomach did.

"What the fuck," I did my best to keep the uncertainty out of my voice, as my face was inundated with an ungodly cloud of beer breath. I became slowly aware of where everything was in the scenario. His breath beating on my forehead, his budding beer belly pressed against my own stomach, and a big strong hand on my waist. I shuddered at the close proximity of a male. I hadn't been this close to someone since before I left ZsuZsu City.

Shane's thumb pressed harshly into the soft flesh next to my hipbone and pulled my lower half forward against his grinding me against what seemed to be a rapidly growing erection. "Why do you have to be so fucking irritating," he rasped.

"Why do you have to be such a cunt all the time," A familiar feeling began to pool in the pit of my stomach and I found my hips seeking to further close the distance with his. I heard him emit a tiny groan, before his hand moved around to my ass to assist with grinding me into him.

 _Oh god this is hot_ , I closed my eyes and pressed my head against the wall getting leverage to arch my back away from the splintery wood. This was quickly turning into a more exaggerated repeat of when I had break up sex with my ex. It was quick, dirty, and nothing more than a mutual need to come. I expected this would be much of the same.

My hand traveled slowly up his jacketed arm trailing blood and making a slight ' _wooshing_ ' sound against the windbreaker's fabric all the way up to his collar. I saw the dark shape that was Shane's head tilt as my bloodied hand gripped the fabric and pulled him closer. I heard him make a quiet ' _hmph_ ' as he neared, his slight resistance showing that he was unsure about me making a bid to call the shots.

It was stupid, it was probably wrong, but I wanted him to take me. I wanted this stupid, angry, rude-ass stock boy to take me right here, spiders, splinters and all. I tilted my head when we were nearly face to face, and pressed my cheek against his, my lips brushing against the lobe of his ear. "Time to be a fucking man, Shane," I prodded hoping my words would rile him up enough to put some fire in him. "You going to bitch out, or are you going to show me who's boss?"

Shane let out a low growl of annoyance sounding more and more like the mangy dog that he was, and very soon after there was his other hand on my ass lifting me into the air, and sliding my shoulders against the splintered wood. I winced as the small shards of lumber dug their way into my back, and let out a low whimper of pain. A small ' _heh_ ' came from my unwitting partner. _God how I hate him._

I took the small moment where we were just stood there, my center pressed firmly to his belt buckle to pull myself forward and off the wall by the collar of his jacket, my other hand wrapping itself firmly around the back of his neck for more leverage. I did the same with my legs around his waist. He didn't even grunt at all while this was going on, he just waited for me to have fully secured myself before he carried us both back through the room towards the fish tank.

The fish tank was an old glass box that sat on an even older wooden pedestal. It was empty now, had been for years and had large cracks running through the panes. I was looking over my shoulder as we neared and was about to warn Shane that we were going to hit the tank, when I felt a hand leave my ass and then saw Shane's large calloused hand reach out and push.

 _Crash_. The entire tank tipped off the pedestal and fell to the ground behind me. I turned and looked back at Shane who responded by heatedly staring back at me from under his bushy eyebrows. There was anger in his drunken glassy eyes, as per usual, but that was coated under a heavy hit of desire. I saw the corner of his mouth turn up into an unusually charismatic smirk before a was plopped unceremoniously onto the pedestal.

It hurt, but not as bad as the splinters so I chose to ignore it and instead focused on trying to remove my camisole straps as hastily as I could while still being drunk. The small lace ribbons were giving me trouble, but I finally got them off my shoulders and managed to slide my arms out from the inside. As soon as both arms were free, Shane's rough hands were at the neckline pulling down.

With no hesitation my breasts popped out from beneath the white cotton, on display for my greedy counterpart. The palms of his hands itched the smooth skin covering my breasts as he kneaded them roughly. He pinched my left nipple and I sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan for as long as I could help it. Shane was surprisingly good at working my breasts, it was more than I had expected from him.

"Well?" I hadn't realized that he had stopped and was looking at me impatiently. I looked down, and saw that he had already undone the button of his pants for me. The bulge beneath the zipper of his khaki cargo shorts seemed large enough for my tastes. I quietly reached down and tugged at the zipper letting his shorts fall to the floor. His newly freed erection poking from between the hole in his boxers, twitched bobbing up and down slightly. I carefully took his length in my uninjured hand and stroked it slowly, my grip firm. Shane's head tipped back and he let out a groan. The sight of a man in ecstasy due to my ministrations always gave me an extra jolt. Men, especially Shane, were usually reserved in day to day. But seeing him now, scruffy, and groaning from my touch made me wetter than it had with previous partners.

I continued to stroke him slowly, changing between a firm grasp and gently running my fingertips over the veins that popped subtly into view. It was a decent six inches, and pretty girthy, so my small hands were barely able to encircle its circumference. By now the kneading of my breasts had stopped. Shane was standing there, hands braced on the edge of the pedestal I sat on, head hung now, hiding his face. My only knowledge that I was doing well was the intermittent groans coming from him, and the occasional cock twitch.

I cleared my throat, and he looked up at me, the usual ire in his eye. I glanced pointedly at my own pants and then back at him, quirking my slender brow as our gazes met again. Shane took my instruction, and with a flick of his unusually nimble fingers popped the button of my jeans open. His hands slid from the wood of the pedestal up my thighs to the waistband of my jeans, and he slowly slipped his large fingers between my waist and the cotton of my underwear.

I almost thought he was going to pull them off slowly, until I saw his shoulders flex, and felt myself sliding off the edge of the pedestal towards his body. I lost grip of his cock trying to catch myself and managed to stop my descent while Shane pulled my pants down to my ankles and somehow managed to get them off without taking off my boots. I angled my hips so that my center was on display for him and hooked the heel of one of my boots on the edge of the wooden table.

Shane just stood there looking at me, like I was a creature in the Valley that he'd never encountered before. He wasn't making a move at me like I had expected and wanted him to. "You just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?"

Shane blinked suddenly and his expression changed back to its usual surly demeanor. He grabbed his cock in one hand and stepped forward placing his free hand over my knee and on the pedestal next to me. My own breathing had all but stopped in anticipation. I watched as he pushed his hips forward just enough so that his head came into contact with the moisture of my labia. He slowly rubbed his cock over my slit wetting it down slowly. This time I couldn't keep it in, and a low needy moan escaped me and hung in the balmy air around us like a shroud. He went again from my clit to my entrance and back up again. Another moan.

 _Oh my god._ Again. And again. Each time he made a pass over my pussy with his now glistening cock head my moans became louder. I tried a couple times to thrust at a moment where I thought I could get him to slip in, but he managed to keep control and punished me by making the next pass slower. It was torture.

"Please, Shane," I finally panted, "Fuck me." I reached out and grabbed a hold of his green polo and pulled him closer. It didn't matter to me that he smelled too much of beer, or that he never took care of himself-right now I just needed him in me.

He started on another pass and I became worried that his plan all along was just to tease me to death, but when he finally got to my entrance again I felt his hand move and he slowly, slowly pushed his way inside me.

"Oh fuck," my voice cracked as I leaned forward to bury my face in Shane's chest. It had been so long for me that every centimeter he moved in was stretching me to the point of near pain. I heard him exclaim a low expletive as he moved in steadily, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Finally after what seemed like several minutes he was in as far as he could go. After I had a moment to settle into the new feeling I sighed and tilted my head back letting my neck stretch back as far as I could. I felt so deliciously full I almost didn't want him to move, and from the lack of motion on his part, I was wondering if he felt the same way.

I squeezed his cock gently with my wall muscles, hoping that would spur him into action. Shane jumped and looked down at me with a small smirk and leisurely began to pull himself back out. I panted waiting for a deliciously long withdraw, but instead halfway out he slammed himself back into me to the hilt. I let out a startled cry and jerked my head back up and found him grinning at me.

I shuddered as he began to withdraw again, sliding effortlessly out of me, this time expecting another borderline violent thrust. This time he changed it up by slipping back into me just as slowly as the first time. I could see this was going to be a nearly infuriating encounter.

"Shane," I huffed. "We're supposed to be fucking, not making love." The last thing I wanted from him was a sensual encounter. I'd had enough of the teasing-I wanted to be pounded.

"Noted," he snorted and picked up the pace. It was just slow enough that I could feel every inch of him as he moved inside me, but quick enough that our bodies made a light slapping sound due to the humid Summer air. I reached down skimming my hand over my perspiration soaked body down between my legs and found my clit. All the teasing had gotten me riled up enough that I didn't want anything except to come hard. I ran my pointer finger lightly around the nub of flesh and shuddered. I pressed a little harder as I continued my ministrations focusing on the tingling that was beginning to spread.

I wasn't sure how long we sat like that, Shane doing his best to keep an erratic pattern, and me touching myself, but suddenly I became aware that Shane had a hand splayed across my chest and was pushing me back gently. I looked up at him questioningly wondering why having his large calloused hand covering my breast bone seemed so erotic. He narrowed his eyes at me and pushed again. Fine. I acquiesced to his gesture and carefully lowered myself so I was lying flat on the pedestal, my head just barely lolling over the side.

As soon as I was laid all the way down, Shane quickened his trusting and his pace became more rhythmic and less of a challenge to keep me on my toes. My breasts rolled on my chest as he moved gently pulling and stretching the skin on my body. I arched my back in a bid to get Shane's hand on one of my gyrating breasts. I didn't just want a third point of contact I needed it.

"Do that thing again," Shane's husky voice rose from the cacophony of slapping skin and restrained moans. I immediately flexed my vaginal muscles and held them tight, lightly clamping down around his cock.

"Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth. His eyes closed again and his head tilted back as he began to lose himself in the rhythm. His hand that was on my breast bone began to slide lower as he did so and ended up finding a home on my right breast. His fingers began to contract squeezing the soft flesh gently.

That was all I needed to be able to reach my peak. As we moved together, my hand methodically rubbed my clit sending ripples of static through my body causing small pulsing convulsions through my legs and my arms. The static was becoming so loud I was barely able to hear my own breathy moans much less Shane's animalistic grunts.

Without warning Shane grabbed my leg that lay dangling over the edge of the pedestal under the knee and lifted it up over his shoulder, changing the angle at which he was entering me. The next time he pounded himself into me it hit a new spot that sent jolts of electricity through my core and out my extremities, summoning a strangled cry that I just barely heard above the static ringing in my ears.

Wide eyed at the new feeling coursing through my body, I lifted my head and locked eyes with my partner. His bright blue eyes were clouded over and heady with lust. I almost reached out to touch his face in that moment, but he thrust into me again and all trace of coherency left me as I let out a garbled string of words, head dropping back as his cock reached its full depth.

His pace quickened again, and the rhythm began to break down, signaling he was close to his climax as well. I sped up my own pattern on my clit, my fingers sliding deftly around the small nub. The ripples of static and the jolts of electricity were pooling in my abdomen in the most delicious way. I felt like I just needed that one last thing to send me over the edge and into bliss.

My hand groped for Shane's hand that was still working my breast and guided his hand to its peak, signaling him to play with my nipple. He took my prompt and began rolling the bud between his fingers and then, a pinch.

That was it.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Shane, fuck," my moan verged on a scream. My walls clamped down around him, and my hand working my clit went into double time as shock waves of pleasure ran through me. The rest of my body tensed as Shane continued to pound my G-Spot as quick as he could, groaning loudly, his stubble rubbing against the shaved calf of my raised leg. It was too much, every sensation was rolling and entwining with the others to become a knot in the base of my stomach. I pulled my wet fingers from my mound and pressed them to my abdomen hoping that lessening the stimulation would help. For good measure I swatted Shane's hand away from my breasts and after a moment the knot began to go away.

With my own pleasure taken care of, I turned my attentions to Shane, who was lost in his own little world, eyes closed, muttering 'fuck' under his breath every few thrusts. His hands on either side of my thin waist were red from being under pressure for so long, and I could tell he was getting tired from the gleam of perspiration on his forehead.

I lifted my leg off his shoulder and wrapped both around his waist, and squeezed pulling us closer together. His sharp intake of breath showed surprise but he didn't let up on the pace. I propped myself up on my elbows briefly and then reached out grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him down to meet me.

"What the fu-" Shane started to protest to the close proximity.

"Shut up and come for me," I ordered, pressing my forehead to his as I ground back against him. Now that I was closer, and my head was clear of my own impending climax every little thing he did was so easy to pick up on. The way his breath hitched when I circled my hips around his, or how he wheezed a bit when he thrusted especially hard.

"Almost there," Shane ground out through gritted teeth and sure enough a few moments later he buried himself in me and stilled, letting out a stilted groan as he did so. I could feel a small burst of warmth in my abdomen and then a flash of sudden cold as the man above me pulled away quickly.

I watched as he tucked his half-chub into his boxers and collected his shorts, his face screwed into his usual sour expression. He held his pants in front of himself, and stepped into his shorts with relative ease for someone who was drunk.

The cold on my crotch, and the sheen of sweat from our encounter were starting to give me the chills, so I slid myself off the pedestal, boots crunching in scattered broken glass as my feet hit the floor and set to work pulling the straps of my camisole back up over my shoulders and my breasts back into my shirt.

The quiet ' _zzzzt_ ' of a zipper was heard and then the sound of Shane's skater shoes ' _thunking_ ' across the old broken floor towards the door. "Thanks for nothing," he called out over his shoulder, flipping me the bird as he spoke.

"Same to you, asshole," I shouted after him. Shane disappeared out of the building and into the park outside leaving me half naked and alone in the Community Center. My hands shook from exhaustion as I reached for my mud covered jeans and I wondered if I could get these on without having to hop back onto the wooden platform behind me.

After a couple tries, and a moment or two of fiddling with my underwear to make the leg holes line up right, I managed to get my pants on. Quietly I headed toward the door of the Center, barely casting a glance back at the spot we had just fucked. This would just seem like a bad dream in the morning, I guessed as I was still inebriated enough to almost fall into one of the holes in the floor.

 _Probably the same for him as well_ , I smiled wryly. _Nothing ever changes with that one._

A slight breeze hit me as I stepped through the threshold of the door. I rotated my upper half around to grab the doorknob and close up behind us, not wanting to leave any trace of what happened there if possible. The only factor I couldn't control was Shane having smashed the fish tank, but that, I was sure I could find and excuse for.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey All!

So I decided to expand this story a bit because it keeps rattling in my brain. It'll be slow going as I work full time and don't really have time during the week to work on this, and every other weekend for me is busy, so publishing new chapters might take a while-so be prepared.

No smut in this one, but next one will have something steamy!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Lillian," I winced as Gus' salutation hit me like a ton of bricks.

 _Oh not now,_ I used my hands wedged deep within my hoodie pockets to pull the fabric so it was looser over my front before I turned to face Pelican Town's secret keeper.

He walked closer to me, heading toward the bulletin board at which I was stationed. His unbuttoned mustard cardigan blew in the breeze, holding onto a few of the curled orange leaves that blew in the crisp wind. His gait seemed easy and light but his face betrayed his true intentions.

"Its been a bit since you've come into the Saloon-everything alright?" He questioned from underneath his bush of a mustache.

I nodded slightly and forced out a placating smile before turning my head back to the board. It was Elliot's birthday, and I wasn't sure I had the energy to walk all the way to the beach to walk to the beach in hopes there was a fresh lobster in one of my traps to throw at him as a gift.

"Don't do that to me," Gus' voice had taken on the tone of a disappointed father. A heavy hand gripped my shoulder and pulled and my upper torso easily rotated to follow. He looked at me, his brown eyes heavy with concern and suspicion.

 _Those eyes._ I averted my gaze to the multi colored cobblestone at my feet. They were too much like my father's. My father who _was_ disappointed in me. My father who had gotten me the job at Joja. My father who's professional life at Joja had taken a hit when I left without so much as a two week's notice.

I had divulged a lot of secrets to Gus over my first year in Pelican Town, but never had I spoken about my father. There wasn't a point-nothing would be changed or solved by touching the subject. As far as my father was concerned, he didn't have a daughter-so why put more salt in the wound?

The combination of the fatherly gesture, the emotional eyes, and the disappointed tone was too much for me at ten o' clock in the morning. My eyes began to glass over, and I could feel the heat in my ears and the muscles in my chin begin to scrunch up as the urge to cry overwhelmed me. I

dropped my head even further, trying to sniff back the urge and keep my emotion out of Gus' view.

Over the pounding in my ears I could just barely hear the clearing of a throat before Gus' hand slid around my shoulders bringing an unnatural warmth with it. "Come on," his voice was softer now, but still had the echoes of my father in it. "Let's get you inside, we'll figure this out."

I didn't have the energy to fight him. It had already been a hell of a morning. No sleep, throwing up my breakfast, and stumbling through my fields with my steel watering can dealing with a case of vertigo that I'm sure is one for the history books.

Gus lead me back through the cobblestone path toward the heavy oak door of the saloon. It had been long enough since I'd been there that the volume of the the ancient iron hinges creaking was nearly startling. He held onto my right forearm as I went up the three rickety steps and headed into the warmth of the bar.

It was exactly the same as the last night that I had been in there barring patronage. All the

seats were empty, the jukebox was quiet, and the clack of billiard balls was absent from the dusty air.

"Sit," The door closed heavily behind us. Gus flowed around me easily and made his way to his spot behind the bar. I sniffed, nodded and shuffled my way to my usual stool. By the time I had made it there, an old plastic ashtray, a cowboy killer and an empty shot glass were already waiting for me.

I wedged myself into the seat and looked longingly at my standard order. It had been two weeks since my last cigarette and truth be told I fiended for one every day. The slight squish of the filter, the smell of burning tobacco, the slight heat in my lungs as I inhaled as many carcinogens as I could. _God I miss that._ My mouth almost watered at the sight.

That's when the bottle of whiskey came into view. Immediately I threw up my hands to dissuade Gus from pouring the rich brown liquid. He stopped and his round head tilted as he regarded me with suspicion.

"Missed you around here," he started. "What's it been, six weeks?"

"Eight," I responded quietly, lowered my hands, and pushed the cigarette away from me as well.

"Just got tired of lookin' at my ugly mug every night?" He laughed. I smiled again, but this time, it was from genuine amusement. Unfortunately my eyes were still threatening to spill tears all over the shiny bar top. Gus patted the back of my hand and walked to the small cooler on the other side of the bar and grabbed me a water bottle instead.

"No," I shook my head slightly hoping to emphasize that he was wrong. "Actually, I've missed you, Gus." And I had. I had been missing any sort of contact. Hell, even getting ignored by Haley would be preferable to the quarantine I was in. "Just been feeling under the weather." My chin spasmed again and suddenly I was in the midst of the worst crying jag I'd had since the last night I left home for Stardew Valley.

My sobs threatened to echo in the empty space of the saloon as my mouth gaped in a loud wail of despair. The heat that was previously relegated to my ears spilled out into my face and made the tears streaming down my cheeks that much hotter. I bent nearly in two, my forehead touching the nearly soothing smoothness of the bar top as my hands wound their way around my stomach. Everything that I had been holding in for the last two weeks was making its way out as violently as possible.

I felt a weight on the back of my head as thick overworked fingers did their best to slide through my unbrushed hair making the light blonde knots worse.

"Lillian," Gus' voice was low and cajoling as he gingerly ran his hand over my hair, "just get it out, let it all out."

I continued to wail utterly convinced that there would be no end to my tears. As much as my throat burned and my eyes hurt from being screwed shut, the worst part was being acutely aware that my hands and hoodie were concealing the source of my despair.

"I'm pregnant," I managed to gasp out between cries and the hand on my head stilled, followed by a heavy sigh from Gus. It didn't ring of disappointment, but resignation.

I had found out two weeks prior when I passed out on my way home from the mines late one night. Harvey had found me and in the middle of my check up the next morning I ended up barfing all over his shiny white floor. A couple questions about how long I had been feeling sick, and if I had been having any unprotected sex and I was getting an ultrasound done and looking at a tiny constellation of pixels on a grainy screen.

Still, no matter how much Harvey asked if I needed help, I insisted I was fine. He tried to get me to notify the father, which I had refused to divulge, and he only let me leave after I promised I would when I had had the chance to come to terms with my condition.

The past two weeks, however, all I did was try to ignore it as best I could. I still had time before working the fields would become more than just a labor of love. The only time I couldn't deny it was first thing in the morning and into the early afternoon. Breakfast and lunch were sometimes hit-or-miss and I found out quickly that I had suddenly become susceptible to vertigo in the early hours of the day.

Sitting here, though, in this dusty old shit-hole of a bar, being clumsily comforted by the town's secret keeper, I finally said it out loud. It had been a while since I let the floodgates open and I was gasping for air at this point, more so from my nose being so plugged that I couldn't breathe than from actual crying. The hand on my hair receded and a moment or two later I heard the telltale 'woosh' of a kleenex being pulled from a box.

I slowly rose, making sure to pull my hoodie taught against my back. Despite the thick cotton I felt very exposed sitting at the bar in front of Gus. I didn't want to be just the stupid whore that got pregnant, and I didn't want to feel like he was looking at my stomach.

However, when I looked up, Gus' kind brown eyes were waiting for mine. He smiled quietly, and motioned at me with the tissue that hung limply from his hand. My shaky hands quickly enveloped the offering and brought it back to my nose.

The sound that followed was akin to a sustained trumpet blast. If I hadn't been so upset over my newly outed secret, I might have been embarrassed but for right now the need to breathe comfortably through my nose was imperative.

When I was done, two tissues later, and had taken a long pull from my bottle of water that Gus had uncapped while I was tending to my nose, the man in the mustard sweater braced himself on the bar, one hand on either side of me and sighed:

"So what're you gunna do, kiddo?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, sniffed and prayed that my resolve won out and I didn't dissolve back into a weepy mess.

"Are you uhhh…." Gus looked off to the side and the tip of his nose and his cheeks reddened as he blushed. _Oh. You're asking...oh…_

"No," I quickly interjected trying to save him from more awkwardness than necessary and looked away. "I'm not having an abortion," I put my hands up as if to ward off the idea. The idea had briefly occurred to run of to ZsuZsu City, have it done and come back like nothing had happened when I had been sitting in Harvey's office two weeks ago. It would have been so easy-a quick way out. No consequence for my night of hate sex in the Community Center.

 _But that's what_ old _you would have done_ , I had thought immediately after. I had come to Pelican Town and to its people to escape my shitty life where as a matter of course I generally took the easy way out of everything. Taking the easy way out had gotten me to the end of a trail of shitty relationships, working a soul-crushing job, and drinking myself to death in whatever dank bar I could find at the end of the day. No. I came here to do better, to take responsibility for myself, my happiness, and my well-being, and I didn't think I could handle not giving what could be this truly awesome little person a chance to be. It wasn't it's fault that it's father and I were irresponsible assholes just looking to get our rocks off, and were too drunk to even think about protection. It wasn't it's fault that I was still entirely too selfish to be a mother. No. I couldn't pawn off my mistakes and inadequacies off on the life inside me.

I already felt like a shitbag, no need to make it worse.

"Adoption," I nodded slightly, more to myself than to Gus. "It's going up for adoption."

"And until then," Gus responded without skipping a beat.

"Work, see Harvey for check ups, avoid everyone else at all possible costs. Hope that no one else notices." A snort from across the bar caused me to look back at Gus whose eyes were rolled to the heavens.

"You know everyone's going to find out." Gus' fingers wrapped on the bar top. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

"Yeah," My head drooped. _Might as well get my scarlet letter now._

"Even the father...and no matter who it is," the wrapping stopped and once again Gus' warm hand was on my shoulder. "It'd be better if he found out from you."

"Maybe," I shrugged my free shoulder hoping to rid myself of the truth just bestowed upon me and sighed. Gus was right, it would be best if I told the father before word got out. Though my situation was shitty enough, I could imagine finding out that you are the last person to know you helped create a child would sting, and as much as I wasn't a fan of Shane right now, there was no need for me to sink to his level.

The heavy creak of the door, and the unmistakable sound of skater shoes on old wooden floor boards floated lazily to my ears as he headed to his usual spot at the end of the bar near the fireplace.

"Gus," Shane's voice was cracked and laden with sleep. My impromptu therapist's name was probably the first word he'd spoken all day, and it didn't seem like his day had started all that long ago.

"Afternoon, Shane," Gus nodded at his first paying customer of the day, and set to work about pouring the violet haired patron his first mug of beer. All the while Gus was working I did my best rearrange my hoodie so that my slight bump was hidden. It was more out of paranoia than anything else, but I could feel another pair of eyes on me though it looked like Shane was staring at the floor.

 _Why is he looking at me_ , I felt heat rise to my cheeks once more and I turned in my seat so I was facing the back of the bar. I gingerly brought a hand up to my swollen, tear-stained face and wiped the remnants of moisture that had settled there.

A snort from the end of the bar stopped me in my tracks.

"Fuck _off_ , Shane," the words were out of my mouth before the thought to do so had fully formed in my mind. What's worse is that his indignant snort had broken the ramshackle dam I had formed to ward off more tears. Glistening drops of salty water poured from my eyes as I burst off of the hard wooden stool in a bid to get to the door and away from the person that despite my better judgment seemed to be the cause of all my problems.

I noticed as I gained my footing and turned, that Shane was looking between Gus and I, a large hand raised palm to the heavens as his expression questioned as to what he did to deserve a teary farmer, and a haphazard storm out.

My mud-caked boots caught a table leg as I tried to hastily make an exit, and what little balance I had after my battle with the vertigo monster from this morning, gave out. My hands flew out to catch myself, taking the hemline of my hoodie with them, and exposing the slight bump I had.

 _Fuck._

I managed to catch myself on a chair and gather my feet beneath me before the chair decided

to betray me and tip as well. I stood and grabbed the hemline of my hoodie, pulling it low, and away from my body to let the rolls of thick cotton hide my newly outed secret. Hopefully, Shane was as oblivious as he tended to look and didn't notice anything.

"You okay," Gus called out from behind the bar, and I heard a couple heavy steps heading in the direction of the swinging gate that separated the back of the bar from the rest of the Saloon. "Here-" I flapped my left arm wildly, waving him off, not daring to turn and face the violet haired man in the corner.

"I'm _fine_ ," I insisted. The soft worn fabric of my hoodie pocket welcomed my hand as I jammed it into place, hunched my shoulders and stormed out the door and into the cool fall air, nearly knocking Emily over on my way down the rickety wooden steps.

 _No._ Tears hot and heavy streamed over my cheekbones and ran along my jawline to pool at my chin. _He can't know. Not yet._ Within my pockets I flattened my hands over my stomach cupping the tiny life inside me. _Is it even alive yet? Fuck I don't even know. I don't know anything anymore._

I 'clacked' my way along the cobblestone sidewalk westward in the direction of my farm. The sooner I was home, the sooner I could break down and hopefully get the backlog of tears I had stored up out of me. Gus' was the tipping point I needed to finally start accepting my situation, but that didn't mean I was done crying over it. Not in the slightest.

Shifting my direction slightly to the right to hit the short path that headed to my farm, I caught sight of Haley standing with her camera where the path to the farm split and headed toward the Community Center.

 _Shit._

Her sleek blue dress clung to her hourglass body in all the right places to make a man do a double take, and was only slightly masked by a darker blue cardigan that she threw over her shoulders to stop the autumn chill from biting at her. She was messing with her camera from what I could see.

I always felt uncomfortable around Hayley. She always looked so put together and perfect. Even now with her hair piled in a high fun bun, she looked elegant. The main reason I tended to avoid her, though, was the relationships she chose to keep. Knowing that she was banging Kent behind

Jodi's back just turned me off when it came to the idea of friendship with her.

To be fair, though, Hayley didn't seem to give a fuck anyway.

My shoulders rose as I hunched down further to try to further obscure my face as I neared. Thankfully the wind was blowing in a South Westerly direction causing my long tangled tresses to mask my face.

"Hey, Lilly," Haley's sing-song voice came in on the wind.

I cleared my throat as quietly as I could, "hey, Hale-"

" _Lillian!_ " A shout from behind me stopped me in my tracks. I turned over my shoulder and saw Shane just at the corner of the Saloon, one hand trying to wave me back over while the other was firmly grasped at his belt line, trying to keep his pants up.

I looked back in Haley's direction and caught the quirk of one of her slender brows as her gaze shifted between my teary face, and Shane's urgent expression. "Uhm, what's going on? Did he do something to you?" Her face immediately turned sour.

I heard a muttered 'fuck' and the squeak of a shoe sliding on the cobblestone pavers as Shane obviously took my lack of return for what it was and had decided to instead head my direction.

Sniffing loudly I nodded, and her anger visibly intensified enough that there was a tinge of pink on the apples of her tanned cheeks. "I just want to go home," my voice wavered pitifully.

"Go," she nodded her head in the direction of my farm, her bun rolling on the top of her head as she did so. "I got this."

"Thanks, Haley," I did my best to shoot her a small appreciative smile. She just nodded in return, her eyes trained on the man coming up behind me. Without another word I headed off past her at a quickened pace, staring at where my feet fell as to not stumble and fall again.

"Lillian!" I heard Shane yell from behind me again, and then a loud 'click' from Haley's heels as she shifted her weight.

"Not so fast, asshole!" Haley's voice was sharp and cutting-without a hint of its usual musical quality. I could only imagine how that interaction might look right now, with Haley staring Shane down. He had a foot on me, so probably a foot and a half on her, but by her string of slurs she started in on, she wasn't backing down.

I could still faintly hear the peaks of Haley's tone when I hit the gates of my farm. I looked up at the old iron sign as I passed under it: "Shady Stream Farm". It was an amazing piece of property my Grandfather had cultivated. Surrounded by thick forest, rich dark brown soil that was perfect for growing quality crops, and a stream that ran along the bottom of the property that was perfect for refilling my watering can and setting up crab pots. There was even a cave along the top that Demetrius had worked on to make it easier to grow mushrooms.

I had grown to truly love my farm. Everything about it was a labor of love, and if I was being honest with why I was so upset about being pregnant-it wasn't because I was sad to give up the baby. No, actually it would be be the best thing for it. To go to a home with a responsible adult to take care of it-because obviously if you're going to drunkenly hate-fuck someone without protection, you shouldn't be raising a child. No, I was upset because everything I had worked for-everything I had done in the name of making my grandfather proud was ruined with one night of stupidity.

As I neared the steps to my front porch a deep bark sounded from around the corner. "I'm home, Farley," I called. A split second later a huge blocky-headed blue pit bull turned the corner and bounded toward me tongue lolling out of his thick muzzle, making the display just that much more comical.

I smiled at my constant companion and met him at the porch steps. Sitting heavily, I retracted my hands from my pockets to give Farley's shiny coat a rub. "Everything quiet while I've been gone, handsome?" Farley simply nosed the hand that wasn't petting him to get it to join in on the affection. "I

know, I have two hands for a reason."

Farley grumbled in appreciation as I rubbed his ears. I loved his grumbles, it was one of the quirks that Marnie had told me about when she had brought him to my doorstep a little over a year before. She had been worried I wouldn't take him, not only because of the breed, but because at the time she had showed up at the farm-I was still very new to Pelican Town and hadn't really done much socializing. She even brought up that she wasn't sure how I would take a near stranger coming to her door and guilting her into taking a dog.

The grumble turned into a growl, and my own hackles rose at the sound. I had never heard Farley growl except for when wolves had tried to get into the chicken coop last summer. This wasn't near that level of ferocity , but it was a definite warning that something was going on. I opened my eyes and peered out at my fields. Everything was quiet from what I saw, foliage blowing in the breeze, and the heads of chickens poking out from the grass. The cows were grazing in the south, and I could just see the back of my white dairy cow, Margo in the distance.

Looking down to Farley, I saw he was fixated on the entrance to the farm. I frowned and turned following his gaze to my left and saw Shane frozen right between the fence poles.

 _Oh goddammit._

"Oh shush," I cast a narrowed glance down at Farley who immediately ceased growling and sat. "Good boy." Looking back to Shane I let out a low sigh and called out, "not now, Shane."

He didn't move except for shoving his hands deep into his Joja windbreaker's pockets. "Don't you have something you want to tell me?"

"No," I glared and bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep the crying from starting again.

I could hear the groan of impatience from him from where I sat. "You're fucking lying. Quit being a little bitch about it and just let it out already."

 _Little Bitch?_

I shot to my feet, nearly knocking Farley over and stalked a few paces toward the disheveled man, watching his bitter expression change to a smug smirk at my reaction. I pointed a dirt crusted finger at him from where I stood about twenty yards away and clenched my other hand into a fist.

"Fine, you really want to know?"

"That's what I said you dumb piece of shit. All Gus told me was that I did something to upset you and he wouldn't give me anything until I talked to you. Its Saturday, and I was planning on closing the place down-so just tell me what stupid petty thing I did, and then we can both get back to not speaking."

 _Fucking Gus._ That would be a problem for another day.

"Back to not speaking? You promise?" I snorted.

Shane rolled his eyes skywards and swore under his breath. "Yes."

I took another few steps toward him so I wouldn't have to shout my secret, even though barely anyone came this far out of town. I folded my arms under my chest and regarded him for a moment. _Did he ever wear anything else?_ He looked to be in the same khaki shorts and green polo from the last time I had seen him. There was a dark stain on the lapel of his windbreaker, and I vaguely remembered running my cut hand down his jacket in the heat of our meeting in the Community Center.

"Fine," I sniffed again as a river of snot threatened to run out of my nose. I needed a tissue badly, but if he wanted to know, I needed to do it quick. Like ripping off a bandaid. "You blew your wad inside me, and knocked me up."

If life were a cartoon or a video game or something, Shane's jaw would have hit the floor. I swore I could see his tonsils from how open his mouth was. His brows were nearly a singly unit from how tightly they were screwed together, and I'm pretty sure I saw his knees buckle.

"Yeah, pretty much how I looked when I found out. Did you know being pregnant means that normal work I would do, like mining-oh, and uh, _farming_ , is fucking tiring? Oh, and vertigo? That's a thing. I've busted my ass more times the past week than I have in my entire life!" Shane blinked a few times and managed to close his mouth. He looked as if he was going to say something, but I raised my finger further and he shut his mouth again. "Bonus fact: it only gets more difficult as time goes on. So if you can get the fuck away from my property and leave me be, I have to rest because just looking at you is exhausting, and upsetting which from what I hear isn't good for the baby."

I turned on my heel and headed back past Farley and up the stairs to my front door feeling a little bit lighter after my small tirade, especially since I was leaving a sputtering Shane in my wake.

The freshly oiled hinges opened quietly and bared the cozy innards of my tiny farm house. A pillowy bed was waiting for me, and my tears just past the living area. I wasn't even going to fight it. This morning had been emotionally and physically exhausting and I just couldn't handle anything else.

Still I wondered if I was alone, or if Shane was still skulking around the edge of my property. Leaning back, I grabbed onto the door jam and stuck my head and shoulders out past the open door just in time to catch Shane turn, head lowered, hands jammed into his pockets.

 _Thank God._

I quickly shut the door behind me and crossed the living room to my bed, collapsing onto the quilt I used as a comforter. My boots thumped against the floor as I kicked them off to bring my knees to my chest and let out a shaky breath. The tears would start again, it was just a matter of time.


End file.
